Kyle and Heather Another Side of Silent Hill
by Guile46
Summary: What if Heather had a boyfriend before and during the events of Silent Hill 3? (Updated 2204)
1. Normal Day

"How's this look?" Heather held up a purple shirt. It did look very nice, but the   
  
thing that caught my eye was the price. She noticed me glancing at it and pulled it closer   
  
to her. "Just for once, can you ignore the price!" I shrugged my shoulders. We were at the   
  
mall; Heather was shopping for clothes, beyond her price range as usual. I normally   
  
wouldn't go, but I had nothing else better to do.   
  
"It's a nice shirt Heather, but twenty five bucks! You're not rich!" "Yeah, you're   
  
right..." Heather sighed and gently put the shirt back on the rack. "I hate it when she does   
  
that, as long as she doesn't give me that look…" Heather locked her eyes on me. "Let's   
  
go…" "Yeah, she had to do it…" I took my wallet out of my back pocket. I whispered   
  
under my breath. "Shit, there goes my lunch!" I took a couple of five's and handed them   
  
to her. Heather smiled and snatched the bills. "Thanks." She quickly walked off to the   
  
changing room.  
  
My name is Kyle. I'm nineteen, five foot eight. I'm average all out, neither   
  
handsome nor ugly. My hair is always a long, mashed, black mess, netted in front of my   
  
gray eyes. I don't wear anything really unique or creative. A t-shirt and loose jeans and   
  
I'm set. I've been her neighbor for about two years. All this time, and I still haven't   
  
figured out why we are friends. I can be a real asshole sometimes, and I'm stingy. I'm   
  
lucky to have her as a friend. Heather could hang out with anyone, but somehow our   
  
paths have crossed, and now her future is tied with a deadbeat loser who's still a senior.  
  
Heather is seventeen, five foot seven, and has short, blond hair, and has brown   
  
eyes. I would say she's about average too, there's nothing about her that especially stands   
  
out. Like me, she wears just a t-shirt or tank top and jeans most of the time.   
  
"Well, what do you think?" The purple shirt was a perfect fit, like it was made   
  
just for her.  
  
The register rang, and before I could blink, twenty-seven dollars and thirty-two   
  
cents were gone. As usual, my stinginess came in, but seeing Heather happy, if only for a   
  
brief moment, was worth it. She eagerly took the bag and then draped her arm over my   
  
shoulder. "Thanks Kyle." We left the store. "So, where to now?" Heather shrugged her   
  
shoulders. "I don't know, want to get something to eat?" "Yeah, sure. It'd be nice to sit   
  
down and relax." Heather pointed towards a fast food restaurant, Happy Burger. "How   
  
about that?"   
  
We sat down at the booth with our food. I unwrapped the burger and took a huge   
  
bite. I hadn't eaten all day, so I was starving. Heather had her usual salad. She looked   
  
tired, eating slowly. I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "You alright?" Heather didn't hear   
  
me. She was staring off into space at her salad. I tapped her arm. "Heather?" She still   
  
didn't look up at me. "Huh?" She didn't look good. Already the smile was gone. "You   
  
ok? You look tired?" She shook her head slowly, tapping the fork on a tomato. "It's my   
  
dad. He just hasn't been himself lately. He just sits in his chair like a zombie." I took   
  
another bite. "Do you know what's bothering him?" Heather shook her head, still tapping   
  
the tomato. "I really don't know, he's been like this for a couple of days." Heather ate a   
  
small piece of lettuce. It was silent for a while. She really looked down, but I just didn't   
  
know what to do. Mr. Morris is weird like that. He's a good guy and all, but he's been   
  
unusually quiet lately. He does care about Heather; he's just too overprotective. He never   
  
trusted me around her until a couple of months. Even so, he still makes her carry a   
  
pocketknife just in case "Kyle tries to do anything…" Or so I overheard. "He didn't, get   
  
denied again…did he?" Heather looked up finally. "No, no he didn't. I don't think he lost   
  
his job either. He would've told me." Mr. Morris is a writer, or at least tries to be. He's   
  
never been too lucky. Between waiting for rejection letters, he's a bartender. I guess the   
  
stories he overhears helps him with writing. Heather glanced at her watch. "I better call   
  
my dad, he told me to call him around three." She got up and started for the door. I took   
  
my burger and followed her. That also is a pain. Heather always has to check up with her   
  
dad every couple of hours. Better then my parents. They probably don't even know if I'm   
  
asleep still.  
  
Heather felt her pockets for a quarter. She popped it into the phone. I leaned   
  
against the wall. "Hi dad! It's me!" Funny, I always thought Heather would be annoyed   
  
having to check up with him so much. She was probably just happy to hear him speaking   
  
for a change. "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner." She ran her fingers around the cord.   
  
"Yeah…Kyle's right here." She glanced at me. "Do you want me to come home?" I   
  
shook my head as I crossed my arms. "Of course he will." "Alright Dad, I'll come   
  
home." She sighed and rested her forehead on the payphone. "Yes Dad, Me and Kyle   
  
know the way home. Third Station on Bergen Street." Heather took her head off the   
  
phone. "Alright Dad, I love you too, bye." She put the phone back and turned towards   
  
me. "My Dad wants me to head back home." I lightly pushed myself off the wall. "Yeah,   
  
I know. Let's go." We walked towards the subway entrance in the mall.  
  
  
  
The subway car screeched loudly to a halt. Not many people were here, which is   
  
odd for this time of day. I walked inside with Heather. The seats were cold and hard as   
  
usual. Heather sat down beside me. There were a couple of people on the train. I didn't   
  
see anyone really out of the ordinary. Couple of seconds later, the subway started up.   
  
Heather stretched her arms and laid her head back. "Tired?" She nodded slowly and   
  
rested her head against the wall. "I'm going to sleep as soon as I get home…" I looked   
  
around the car. There was one person in particular who caught my eye. A man wearing a   
  
coat and hat was sitting a couple of benches away from us. He was writing down   
  
something in a small notebook. He noticed me looking at him. He raised his head and   
  
looked at me. I turned away before he could notice. Something was weird about this guy.   
  
Even though I wasn't looking at him, I could tell he was still checking me. The train   
  
screeched as it came to a stop. The man stood up and left the car. I watched him as he   
  
walked. The train soon picked up. As the train took off, the man stared at us.  
  
  
  
Heather and I climbed up the stairs into the street. It was about four now. Our   
  
apartment complex was just a block away. It was crowded with people getting off work.   
  
It was a nice change from the abandoned subway. Heather looked into the bag while we   
  
walked. My mind was still on that weird guy in the subway. Something really was   
  
strange about him. I shook my head. "I shouldn't worry about it, or bother Heather with   
  
it. No reason to worry her." She still looked pretty tired. "Heather, are you ok?" She   
  
turned towards me slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine…. just tired…" She yawned and kept   
  
walking. A couple of minutes later, we got to the apartment. We went in through the back   
  
as we usually do, since it's closer to Heather's apartment. The lights were giving out   
  
again, flickering occasionally, the green walls flashing with each pulse. Heather checked   
  
in her pockets for her keys. "I'll come by tomorrow, about eleven, ok?" Heather turned   
  
towards me. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow!" She hugged me softly. "Good night   
  
Heather." Heather opened the door. She turned towards me and smiled. "Good night   
  
Kyle." As she closed the door, I caught a glimpse of Mr. Morris standing up from his   
  
recliner. I headed for my house, room two zero five.   
  
The door creaked open. Mom was busy cooking dinner. I walked over to her. "Hi   
  
Mom, I'm home." She wiped her hands on her pants. "Hi! How was the mall?" I   
  
shrugged my shoulders. "It was ok, I didn't buy anything." My mom sat down at the   
  
table. "So how's Heather doing?" I got a Dr.Pepper from the fridge. "She's worried about   
  
her dad lately." I sat down at the table. My mom leaned in. "Harry didn't lose his job, did   
  
he?" I took a sip. "No, nothing like that. He's just worried about something. Heather has   
  
no idea what it could be." My mom stood up and walked back to the stove. "I'm sure it's   
  
nothing too bad." I stood up and grabbed my drink. "I hope so." I headed for my room.   
  
"Don't start worrying Heather about it, she's probably upset enough as is."  
  
  
  
I closed the door behind me. My room was just as I left it, a mess. I wadded   
  
through the garbage and sat down at my desk. It's the only area I keep clean. I picked up   
  
a picture on my desk. It was of Heather and me, sitting on my bed, smiling for the   
  
camera. Such a cheesy picture, my mom had to finish up the camera's roll and took it of   
  
us. Don't know why, but it's my favorite picture of us. It was when we were just getting   
  
to be good friends; she looks so happy in it. Looking at it always makes me think of how   
  
lucky I am to know her. "I hope she's ok." I checked to see if my door was locked, then   
  
reached into my pockets for my cigarettes. I haven't had a smoke all day. I opened my   
  
window and rested my arms on it as I smoked. I looked around outside. Not many people   
  
were around, and it was getting dark. I glanced down at the back door. Heather was there,   
  
sitting on the steps. I whistled at her. She looked up at me. She waved at me slowly. I   
  
nodded at her, and I snuffed my cigarette on the windowsill and flicked it out. "I'm going   
  
to go talk to Heather for a bit." I told my mom as I opened the front door. "Alright Kyle,   
  
be back soon, dinner's almost ready." 


	2. Outside Talk

The back door creaked as I opened it. It was a little windy outside. Heather turned   
  
her head towards me. "Hi…" she said quietly. The wind was tossing her hair. She had   
  
been crying, I could tell by her red eyes. She wasn't looking directly at me. I sat down   
  
right beside her, and slid a cigarette from the pack into my mouth. Heather looked at the   
  
pack and slowly reached for it. I held it out to her. She looked at the pack uncertainly.   
  
She took a cigarette from it, and I lit it for her, and then mine. She took a puff, closing her   
  
eyes and exhaling the smoke slowly. I took in some smoke and exhaled it. "I love   
  
moments like this, nothing to bother us, just peace and quiet. Still, I figured I'd better ask   
  
her." "How's your dad?" Heather blew out some smoke, staring off in space. "He's still   
  
pretty quiet, but he's ok now." She stared down at the cigarette in her fingers as she   
  
spoke. "I just can't figure out why he's changed recently." I blew out a cloud of smoke.   
  
"Maybe he's just stressed out from work?" Heather sniffed. " I wish it were that easy…"   
  
I glanced at her, she was staring at the ashes on the ground in front of her." I'm sure it's   
  
nothing." As usual I fumbled out the words nervously. "I don't know what the hell's   
  
wrong with him. Before I can even walk to my room, he bombards me with questions.   
  
Did you see anyone suspicious? Did Kyle do anything weird? Why didn't you come   
  
home sooner! Before I…." Heather took a puff, and then stared at the ground. She spoke   
  
slower. "Before I can even answer, he starts yelling at me, telling me I should stay home   
  
more often. Heather turned towards me, almost looking directly at me. "He even said I   
  
should stop hanging around with you…." I couldn't believe any of this. This isn't the Mr.   
  
Morris I know. Heather sniffed. "I leave my room, and he won't even look at me! He   
  
won't say anything…I…" Her voice started to crack. I noticed tears form in her eyes. "I   
  
don't know…what…to do…" She took one last puff, snuffed the cigarette on the   
  
concrete, and flicked it away. "I just don't know what to do…" I snuffed out my cigarette   
  
and tossed it aside. I should have said something, but my mind was blank. "Why can't I   
  
think of anything to say!?" Heather needed me, but I didn't know what to say. We both   
  
stood up. I didn't look at her, I felt like such a jerk, listening to her and not having   
  
anything to say. Regardless, she walked over and hugged me weakly, sniffing and wiping   
  
her eyes. She still looked upset, and there was nothing I could do. "Thanks for   
  
listening…" It hurt me to see her like this; and she's actually glad that I listened! I didn't   
  
say anything to help her! I felt terrible. I just want her to be happy, but I don't know how.   
  
She looked so desperate, and I don't know why I did what I did next. Perhaps it was the   
  
tears in her eyes, or the sorrow. Before she let go, I kissed her on her lips.   
  
Heather felt tense at first, but loosened up. She must not have been expecting it.   
  
She felt warm, soft. After a while, I clumsily drew back. She didn't look at me. I strained   
  
to think of something to say. "It'll be ok…." I said softly. Heather looked up at me, her   
  
eyes a little shiny. She suddenly hugged me tight, throwing her arms around me.   
  
Confused, I awkwardly put my arms around her. She leaned her head back a little, still   
  
holding me tight. Her eyes were wet as I looked into them. "H…Heather… it's ok…" It   
  
was so strange. There I was looking into her eyes, and I could see all her sadness was   
  
gone. It was as if I was looking deep into her, so calm, and quiet, so peaceful. She   
  
managed a smile amid tears falling, her eyes seeing right into me. She never looked more   
  
beautiful. I kissed her again, this time it seemed like an eternity.   
  
  
  
We walked together to her apartment; neither of us spoke a word. I gave her one   
  
last hug before I walked off. I could tell she didn't want to let go. When I got to the stairs,   
  
I turned around. Heather was still standing there, watching me. She smiled at me and   
  
walked into her house.  
  
  
  
I walked into my house, closing the door behind me. My mom walked over to me.   
  
"Dinner's ready, c'mon, sit down." I held up my hand. "Not now, I'm not hungry…" I   
  
walked towards my room. She walked towards me, and stepped in front of me. "Did   
  
something happen?" I walked past her. "Please mom, not now…" I walked into my room.  
  
  
  
I felt light headed as I fell onto my bed. I stared at the ceiling fan, watching the   
  
shadows. So many thoughts were racing through my head; I couldn't stop thinking about   
  
Heather. I eyed the photo on my desk, of Heather and me. I had always thought that she   
  
never looked so happy, but tonight, when I kissed her, she looked so peaceful, so much   
  
happier. I stood up from my bed and picked up the photo, and looked at it closer.   
  
Heather's smile in it looked kind of fake. Was tonight her first real smile? Was it tonight   
  
that I really saw Heather truly happy? I put the photo back down and sat on my bed.   
  
Heather has cried before in the past, but they were trivial things. A boyfriend dumping   
  
her, being mocked at school, her dad losing a job. I pretty much grew used to comforting   
  
her. Lean head on shoulder, cry, repeat. I'm not saying it wasn't sad, that it didn't also   
  
hurt me, but she was a wreck tonight, and deep down, I knew just being there wasn't   
  
enough, and words can only go so far. I care so much about Heather, I couldn't think of   
  
any other way to show her how much I do. I lied on the bed and closed my eyes. "I hope   
  
she's ok now…" I opened my eyes and stared at the photo as I drifted off into sleep. 


	3. Feelings

I opened my eyes suddenly. The clock beside me read ten forty two. I stared at the   
  
ceiling, too tired to get up, listening to the fan. I started thinking if there was anything I   
  
had to do today, and I then remembered that I'd told Heather I was going to go to her   
  
apartment at eleven. It was then I remembered last night, how I kissed Heather. I didn't   
  
want to get up; I didn't know how I could face her. Does she think I'm her boyfriend   
  
now? This thought made me wonder, would that really be a bad thing? I stood up and sat   
  
at the end of my bed. My hair was all swooshed forward, blinding me. The wind from the   
  
fan was tossing it back and forth. I've known Heather for so long, but not once did I ever   
  
think of this, and I don't understand why it never crossed my mind. We are such good   
  
friends, we've been there for each other, but I never thought, what if I…love…her…. I   
  
closed my eyes and shook my head. "I don't…know… what if I do…?" I slowly opened   
  
my eyes. "What if…she does…?" I stood up and picked up a picture off my desk;   
  
Heather was smiling in a school picture. All the signs she had been giving me, they all   
  
suddenly became clear.   
  
  
  
She always hated being alone. She would never say goodbye without a hug.   
  
Whenever anything troubled her, she came to me to comfort her. She was never afraid of   
  
what I thought, never hesitated to hold back tears.  
  
Funny, I was the opposite. Never have I tried anything towards her, I would be   
  
there to comfort her, but I never cried with her, about her issues or anything else for that   
  
matter. I don't cry.  
  
  
  
While these thoughts buzzed in my head, I slid on my jeans and gray t-shirt. I   
  
glanced at my dusty mirror and quickly combed my hair with my hands, slipped on my   
  
black and white sneakers, and left my room.  
  
  
  
No sooner did I take a step, my mom got up from the table and walked slowly   
  
towards me. She had a look in her eye. She studied my face, and then sighed. It was silent   
  
for a moment before she spoke. "Kyle…what happened last night? I noticed a plate of   
  
food on the table; it looked like it had been sitting there overnight. My mom pointed   
  
towards the plate and looked at it. She spoke softly. "You didn't touch your dinner…"  
  
I walked towards the table. A small note was placed neatly beside the plate.   
  
  
  
"I didn't want to bother you, so I fixed you a plate. Don't stay up too late. Good   
  
night, love you."  
  
  
  
My mom sat down and looked at me. I could tell she wanted an answer from me.   
  
What exactly was I supposed to say? "Sorry mom, I was too busy worrying about   
  
Heather to eat." I looked at the plate, then her. She still wanted an answer. "Kyle." I   
  
walked over to her. "Look at me." Mom was never this serious; she's always casual and   
  
lighthearted with me. She looked into my eyes. "What happened last night? Are you and   
  
Heather ok?" I sighed and shook my head. "Mom, nothing's wrong! She's fine!" I got up   
  
quickly and started for the door. She stood up and followed me. "Kyle, look, what…" I   
  
turned and snapped at her. "Geez, Mom! Why do you care all of a sudden! Nothing   
  
happened, Heather's fine! What, do you think I'm mad at her!?" My mom gave me an   
  
angry look and started yelling. "Don't you talk to me like that Kyle! You treat me with   
  
respect!" I really wanted to snap back, but I held it in, mainly because I could tell she   
  
really wanted to smack me, I could see her hand trembling. I held up my hand. "Mom,   
  
Mom…ok…I'm sorry…" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them   
  
afterwards. "It's just that…you really looked worried last night. Is something wrong with   
  
Heather?" I shook my head. "She had a little fight with Mr. Mason, but I talked to her,   
  
she's ok." My mom breathed a sigh of relief. "So, she's ok?" I nodded my head. My   
  
mom stepped away from me. "Well, ok…that's all I wanted to know…" I opened the   
  
door and turned towards her. "I'll be back later, I'm going to Heather's." My mom smiled   
  
and looked at me. "I know…"  
  
  
  
I walked towards Heather's apartment. I could still picture last night vividly. I   
  
could feel Heather holding me tightly; she didn't want to let go. I could feel her hair   
  
graze my cheek and neck. I shook these thoughts away and knocked on the door. I heard   
  
her call from inside. "Who is it?" I answered. "It's me!" I heard footsteps approach the   
  
door. The door swung open.  
  
  
  
Heather stood in front of me. She was wearing a navy t-shirt and gray shorts; the   
  
shirt had wet blotches all over it. Heather's hair was dripping. She looked into my eyes,   
  
smiling softly. She leaned forward and hugged me. I put my arms around her without   
  
thinking and brought her closer. She rested her chin on my shoulder; her hair wet my face   
  
and shirt. I could feel her skin was warm and damp. I stepped back. She then followed. I   
  
still felt warm. She looked at my shirt, which was now slightly damp. She smiled at me.   
  
"Sorry, I just got out of the shower." I smiled slightly. "That's ok." I followed her inside   
  
and closed the door. We both sat down at her table in the kitchen. I was feeling pretty   
  
nervous, and I didn't need to, but last night kept playing in my head. I felt like she was   
  
watching my every move. I sat across from her. Heather glanced around the apartment.   
  
"Is she nervous too…?" I sighed to myself. "We're both nervous, because of me…all my   
  
fault…" Heather broke the silence. She stood up. "Do you want some coffee?" I nodded   
  
my head. "Sure." She poured me a cup and handed it over to me, and then poured herself   
  
a cup. I wanted to ask her, if last night meant anything…but I didn't know what that   
  
would lead to. I guess I was afraid, of what she would say. She still had that same glow in   
  
her eyes, so it wasn't like it was a bad thing, but I still didn't know…why? How could   
  
that one little kiss affect her so much? It's not like I was her first kiss, she's had   
  
numerous boyfriends. I glanced at Heather; she was staring at her coffee, slowly stirring   
  
it with her finger. "I guess it's on both of our minds right now…"   
  
I took a sip from my cup. Heather spoke, her voice calm. "Kyle…" I looked at   
  
her; she was still occupied with stirring the coffee. "Kyle…about last night…" I kept my   
  
attention, looking into her eyes, although she wouldn't look at me. My heart was beating   
  
rapidly, waiting for every word. I was still very uncertain about what I felt last night,   
  
because of Heather's reaction. What did she think? Why did she feel so happy? She   
  
slowly reached out and grabbed my hand, looking up at me. When she touched my hand,   
  
I felt uneasy, I couldn't bring myself to look at her. "I know I can be moody sometimes,   
  
and last night was no exception…" She then held my hand; I could feel her looking at   
  
me. "It's just that…I've never seen my dad like this before…it's…terrible…" Her voice   
  
started quivering. I looked up; her gaze was still on me. "I didn't want to see her upset   
  
again, I never want to see her upset." I placed my other hand on top of hers. She looked   
  
down at my hand, and then looked at me. It's almost as if she was talking to me through   
  
her trembling hands. I could almost hear her speaking. "Kyle…please, help me…"  
  
I pulled my hand away and stood up, walking over to Heather. She stood up   
  
slowly and walked over to me. I stepped forward and hugged her; she lightly placed her   
  
head on my shoulder. She was crying, but it was a light cry, she wasn't sobbing. I could   
  
feel the tears hit my shoulders. "It's ok…" I repeated it over and over. Heather drew back   
  
slowly. I grabbed a napkin off the table and handed to her. She wiped her face. "Thanks   
  
Kyle…" I nodded my head. "No problem." I turned around to sit back into my chair. She   
  
tossed the napkin onto the table. "No…I mean…thanks for…everything…" I stopped,   
  
my back still to her. Heather sniffed. There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence.   
  
I could hear her stepping towards me slowly. "Kyle…why…did you… kiss me…?"  
  
"Why did I kiss her, why did I…kiss her? Shit…I still didn't know…" Was it   
  
because of pity? I closed my eyes. I knew damn well it was none of those reasons; I was   
  
just making up some bullshit to mask my thoughts. I kissed her because I love her.  
  
  
  
It was always in the back of my mind all these years; I just never wanted to face   
  
it. Heather has always been special to me; I never wanted to screw it up with a   
  
relationship. If things became bad, how could I still be friends with her, let alone face her   
  
every day? The love for her, I guess it was always there, I just never showed it. She   
  
always has…  
  
  
  
I opened my eyes and turned around to face her. Heather was looking at me with   
  
yearning, begging for an answer. It was tough, but I looked at her, face to face.   
  
"Because…" I felt too nervous, so I started glancing around, delaying my answer. "Tell   
  
her… stop denying it, tell her!" I soon brought my eyes back to her, but I closed my eyes   
  
as I spoke. "Because…I…" I shook my head. "Shit…Heather… Heather….I love you…"   
  
Right then, the weight was lifted from my shoulders. Heather knew, I knew, nothing   
  
would hold us back. Heather stood there, staring at the ground, in silence. I looked at her,   
  
but she wouldn't budge. I stood there, waiting. "Heather…?" She didn't respond, she   
  
looked distant, staring at nothing. I reached my arms out and held her shoulders.   
  
"Heather?" She finally raised her head slowly, her eyes shiny. "Kyle…" She slowly   
  
hugged me, bringing her head onto my shoulder. A moment passed, but it was   
  
comfortable. She finally spoke, forever changing our lives. "I love you too…" 


	4. Vision

Weird, I knew Heather had always felt that way about me, but hearing her say it, it just   
  
felt wonderful. She drew back and looked into my eyes, she had a small, happy smile. I   
  
couldn't help but smile back at her. I then leaned forward and kissed her, as we held each   
  
other closely, and this time she was ready for it. Afterwards, we sat back down. I took a   
  
sip of my coffee. I felt strange, after telling her. Things just, felt so different. Heather   
  
suddenly looked happier, as if all the worries in her life were taken away, as if she had   
  
been given a clean slate, all because I said I loved her. I looked at Heather as I thought;   
  
she was sipping her coffee, calmly staring downward with a peaceful smile. It was so hard to   
  
believe, a shy new girl, just moved in, only two years ago, and now here we are, two years   
  
later, in love. I felt like I had to do something then, say something, anything.   
  
Heather laid her head on the table, laying an arm onto the table to rest her head on. I held   
  
her hand as she stared off at the wall. She squeezed my hand as I held hers. It seemed like   
  
minutes passed, while we just stayed like this, not saying a word. I glanced over at   
  
Heather; her eyes were closed. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling fan,   
  
thoughts circling my mind. "So, now we love each other, yet it still feels the same as   
  
before, just, better." I looked at Heather; her eyes were open, still starting off. "All my   
  
other girlfriends, I never felt like this before, not at all." The fan was tossing sunlight   
  
around the room, brightening and darkening the room with each swing of the blade. Everything   
  
seemed to slow to a crawl. I slowly stood up and lightly released my grip from Heather's   
  
hand. I walked over to the window on the other side of the room; I could feel the warmth of   
  
the light as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes.   
  
I opened the window quietly and stuck my body outside, watching the busy, noisy street life   
  
of cars and pedestrians beneath me. I lit a cigarette, lightly chewing at it in my teeth,   
  
letting puffs out.   
  
My mind was clear for a change, it wasn't full of worry or boredom. I had nothing to worry   
  
about anymore: School, my future, nothing mattered now. All because behind me was a person   
  
who actually cared about me, didn't see me as nothing. "I guess that's what love is?" I   
  
relaxed and took in the sights before me, no matter how useless they were. After a while of   
  
staring, I checked my watch. It was only eleven sixteen. "Feel's like it's been longer." I   
  
stretched my arms and tossed my burnt cigarette out the window. I turned around and walked   
  
back towards the table. Heather was still resting on the table. I stood beside her; she   
  
looked asleep, her face had slid off her arm and onto the table. "Ha, reminds me of myself   
  
in school. She'll probably have a big red mark on her face." I walked over to her bedroom   
  
and picked up a small, blue throw pillow from her bed. It had a disgustingly cute rabbit   
  
face stitched onto it. It made me smile. "Typical Heather." I walked back over, and crouched   
  
down beside her. I nudged her shoulder, whispering, "Heather, Heather," She didn't respond.   
  
I put my hand on her face, speaking at normal volume. "Heather."   
  
Her eyes shot open in horror. She gasped loudly in shock and jumped out of the chair. She   
  
fell down and backed away quickly, pulling herself away with her hands. "Heather?!" I   
  
dropped the pillow and walked towards her. "What the hell is going on?" She had her back to   
  
the wall; she was shivering all over. "Get away!" She slowly stood herself up, her knees   
  
trembling, holding onto the wall with her fingernails dug into the wallpaper. I don't think   
  
she even knew it was I, her eyes saw me as a threat, a monster, and an intruder. I took   
  
small steps towards her, speaking gently. "It's me, Kyle." With each step, her breaths   
  
became quicker, beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, her eyes were not hers. She shot   
  
off towards the door, not looking back. "KYLE!! HELP ME!!!" She fumbled at the doorknob,   
  
pulling at the door as hard as she could. I stood still, unable to move. "What's happened to   
  
her! What the hell is going on!" I found myself freaking out, now I was yelling. "HEATHER!   
  
IT'S ME!!" When she heard me yell, she suddenly spun around, her eyes narrowed. "PLEASE,   
  
somebody, help…" She fell to her knees and cried heavily while she stared at my eyes in   
  
terror. "Please, don't…" I began to walk towards her. She lowered her head as I stood before   
  
her. "Go away!" I didn't want to startle her again, so I gently placed my hand on her left   
  
shoulder. She winced and gasped when I touched her. She raised her head slowly, looking   
  
away, still crying. She spoke in a whisper. "Someone…" When I placed my other hand on her   
  
right shoulder, she erupted. "HELP!" I found my voice becoming eerily quiet. "Shut up   
  
Heather." She kept crying like a baby. "Shut up." Heather screaming her head off wasn't   
  
helping anything. No matter what I said, she wouldn't shut the hell up. The bitch kept   
  
wailing on and on. "God, she needs to shut her mouth!!" I could feel my teeth clenching   
  
together. "God damn it Heather." I threw my right hand across her mouth and nose and slammed   
  
her head against the door. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"   
  
Her eyes darted open, looking at me, as if her eyes were screaming. She sounded like she was   
  
hyper ventilating. My grip on her grew tighter, almost to a choke on her mouth. My hair was   
  
dangling in front, poking my eyes, I couldn't see, there was no color. Some rage was woken   
  
up inside of me; I had no control of myself.   
  
Somehow, I regained my consciousness, and color returned to me. I found myself with my right   
  
hand clasped tightly on Heather's mouth, she was gasping for air. I threw my arm back and   
  
jumped backward in shock, knocking a chair over. Heather fell to the floor, choking for air,   
  
like she was drowning. "What the hell did I just do!?" I too was gasping for air, watching   
  
Heather suffering right before me. She raised herself on one knee, still catching her   
  
breath; she then bolted for her room. I reached for her as she ran, but she was too fast; I   
  
ran after her.   
  
She quickly grabbed a small, ceramic vase off an end table in the corner and threw it at me.   
  
It smashed into my chest, briefly knocking the wind of me. I stumbled forward after her   
  
room. She slammed the door and locked it. "Heather! Please!" I pounded at the door. I could   
  
hear her crying behind the door. "Heather! I don't know what I did! Please! Open the door! I   
  
won't hurt you!" She didn't answer back; I only heard her cries. "How? What just happened!"   
  
My head was pounding. "I just attacked her, this wasn't me, this wasn't me." I fell to the   
  
floor, my back sliding against the door. I held my hands in front of me, looking at them in   
  
disbelief. "I just attacked Heather, I just hurt her, what have I done?" My hands fell to   
  
the floor limp; I looked at the overturned chairs and broken vase. "This isn't happening,   
  
this is not real."   
  
Heather continued to cry behind me. It was the only sound I could hear; I couldn't even hear   
  
myself think. I've never heard a worse sound in my life. 


	5. I Hate

Nothing, I didn't recall anything, when I got up from the door, the sounds of my footsteps,   
  
and cries behind me. My front door swung open, the coldness of the apartment engulfed me;   
  
Mom was at work. Window shades were down, the apartment almost a complete darkness. I shut   
  
the door, and walked towards my room, I didn't bother with the light switch. I closed my   
  
door behind me. The window was casting the room in a peaceful, yellow glow. I sat down at my   
  
desk and held my head. My mind was blank; I was stunned. I tried to remember things, but the   
  
last five minutes were all I could see. I looked up at the picture on the desk of Heather   
  
and me. "What just happened? What happened to her? She looked so scared." I rested my head   
  
on the table, still looking at the picture. "This doesn't make any sense, she was fine a few   
  
minutes before?"   
  
I stood up and walked over to the window slowly, peering outside at all the brightness. "Not   
  
like it matters, after what I did." It's crazy, I thought I knew myself, but what just   
  
happened back there, that wasn't me. I don't remember why I did it. I just remember my hand   
  
against her mouth, seeing the fear in her eyes. "God, what the hell is wrong with me? What   
  
was I doing?" I stepped back from the window. "Why did I hurt her?" I walked back towards my   
  
desk. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  
  
I saw a sick, twisted person looking back at me, who loved what he just did, who wanted   
  
more. He loved seeing her scream and beg, loved seeing her in pain, he got off to her   
  
misery. I stared back at the reflection. "Yeah, you loved every second of it, you sick piece   
  
of shit, didn't you?" My right fist tightened, I could feel my veins. "Seeing her cry her   
  
eyes out, running for her life, you wanted more." I peered closer at him. "Fuck you..." My   
  
fist began to shake. I punched the mirror, putting a sharp crack in it. "FUCKING BASTARD!"   
  
This wasn't enough; I punched again, and again, and again. The shards fell onto the floor,   
  
and the mirror creaked as it swung along the wall, unhinged from its nail. I spat at my   
  
broken image on the ground, my fist bled all over. It was dripping like it was drenched in a   
  
rainstorm, felt like I had dipped it into a fire. Shards of glass were pierced into the   
  
skin, glittery artwork across my knuckles.  
  
I closed my eyes and caught my breath. This is a common thing, happens more often then it   
  
really should. When I fail a final exam, when Lisa dumped me, seeing someone I love in pain.   
  
My own stupid ass caused all these. I just, can't help but let my rage out. Sure, I may   
  
cover the holes with posters, but it doesn't hide it, the scars still linger, always a   
  
painful reminder of my many failures.  
  
I shook my hand, watching some glass fall out. Feeling this sharp pain helps me to forget   
  
whatever pissed me off in the first place. It wasn't working this time. I know what I did, I   
  
still remember. I opened a desk drawer and took out a pair of tweezers. I then walked over   
  
to the window and sat against the wall. The sunlight guided me along, and soon enough, about   
  
all the shards were picked out. I could still see some pieces shine in the light. I dug   
  
through the garbage on the floor and found a dirty, light blue rag. "This will do." I   
  
wrapped it around my knuckles, tying it securely. I tossed the tweezers at a garbage pile,   
  
watching them miss and land in another. I held my bandaged hand in front of me, rotating it   
  
like a slab of meat on display.   
  
I laid my head back, watching shadows from outside dance along the floor. I've never gone   
  
this berserk before. I may punch my wall once or twice, or kick a hole in, but not this, not   
  
what I just did. I punched a mirror into pieces, and trashed my floor with blood. I lowered   
  
my head and stared at my flickering shadow on the ground. "God, is this really me?" I held   
  
my face in my hands. "No, this isn't me, I don't do shit like this!" I was just feeding   
  
myself more lies. This is me, or at least what I am becoming. I tightened my left fist and   
  
punched the ground. I never wanted Heather to see me explode like that, but it was   
  
inevitable I guess. I so wanted to sleep, to kill time, to forget, but I couldn't. This   
  
won't be something I'll forget any time soon, that's what sickens me most. Every time, every   
  
single god damn time that I'll see her laugh, or greet me with a smile, I'll see past it   
  
all. I'll look behind those eyes and see her crying, see her mouth twisting into a scream.   
  
I stood up clumsily, somewhat weak from the pain. I cradled my hand as I stumbled   
  
towards my bed, falling onto it. I rolled onto my back and gazed at the ceiling fan.  
  
I'd give anything to reopen my eyes to this morning, to be given a second chance. I wanted   
  
to throw these thoughts away, but I could only think of Heather in her room, delirious and   
  
scared, no one to turn to, like a lost child. "I shouldn't be here. I should be with   
  
Heather." I couldn't bring myself to stand up. I was too scared, not of her, of myself. This   
  
childish rage I have, I had kept it confined here these seven years, or so I thought until   
  
today. Deny all I want, I saw that rage when I threw her against that door, but it wasn't my   
  
usual rage, I had no control. I only remember Heather screaming, and then before I know it,   
  
her head is against the door. It felt out of my hands, like I was just watching it happen. I   
  
lowered my head. All I wanted to do was to stop her, stop the noise, the fear. I didn't mean   
  
to hurt her. I looked at the distant picture of her on my desk. I hated what I saw, that was   
  
not Heather. Something happened to her, I just wanted her back, I didn't mean to do what I   
  
did.  
  
I don't think I've ever been so scared before. That horror in her eyes, hearing the tremor   
  
in her voice. I just wanted her to be ok, to stop this act of hers. I spoke to myself in a   
  
whisper. "Heather, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." I just wish she could know just how   
  
sorry I feel, but it wouldn't matter, those are just words, this isn't so simple anymore.   
  
This isn't some stupid ass aftermath of an argument. Heather was freaking out, she was in   
  
pain, and I saw this. A normal person would have just grabbed her and held her tight, not   
  
let her hurt herself. What did I do? I fucking screamed at her and smashed her head against   
  
the door. "Yeah, that's what love's all about."   
  
"Shit! What can I possibly do for her now?" I was the only person besides her dad that she   
  
could trust to be there for her, to help her. I broke that, now she's alone, in her room, in   
  
darkness. I keep telling myself that I didn't mean to, that I'm sorry. God, that's such   
  
utter bullshit. I can repeat this for hours on end; it still won't change a damn thing.   
  
I rose up and sat at the edge of my bed. Right now, I have two options: Lie here in   
  
worthless pity, whining about what I've done, or get off my ass and go back to her.  
  
I stood up and looked at the picture on the desk, Heather and me. " I know what I did, but I   
  
love her, I can't let her be like this. I need her to be ok." I don't care if she beats me,   
  
and slaps me. I won't back down. In fact, I hope she does. I hope she spits at me, tears at   
  
my skin, and curses my life. It's what I deserve, because I know she won't ever forgive me,   
  
but I can't leave her scared like that. Something was woken up in her, something she doesn't   
  
know, and neither do I. I can't sit here and let her be alone.  
  
I walked over to the picture and studied Heather's face. There's so much life in her. I   
  
looked at myself in the photo. I was the one who brought her this happiness, and I take it   
  
away in an instant. I sighed and sat down at the desk.   
  
My life is worthless, I'm not going anywhere, I have no goals. Walking down a street, I know   
  
what people's gazes say. People look at Heather, knowing she's something special; she has to   
  
be if she would be seen with me. She's going to make it in life, and I'm not about to hold   
  
her back. I know she cares about me, but why? Why does she always insist that I have many   
  
talents? I've got nothing. I don't know why Heather likes me, but I could list so many damn   
  
reasons why I like her.   
  
I opened my door and walked towards my front door. "I don't know what it is that happened to   
  
her, but staying here won't help. This damn anger I have, it won't happen again." I looked   
  
around my apartment as I stood in the entrance doorway.   
  
If Heather doesn't forgive me, fine, I'll move on somehow, but I'll never stop worrying   
  
about her. I shook my head. "No, that's not true at all." If she doesn't forgive me, I don't   
  
know what I will do. Life without her, it's impossible for me to picture. I started at my   
  
hands. I just wish I could trust myself. "There's only one thing I can do. A promise I can   
  
keep." I closed my eyes. "If I ever, EVER hurt her again…" I opened my eyes, looking at my   
  
broken mirror. "Yeah, I'll do that." 


	6. A Broken State

I opened the door to Heather's apartment and walked in slowly, closing the door without   
  
turning around. It was dead quiet. I could still see marks left from before. Slight   
  
fingernail rips on the wallpaper, fragments of a vase, fallen chairs. I took a deep breath   
  
and knocked at Heather's door. "Keep it calm, keep it quiet." There was no answer. I spoke   
  
up. "Heather, it's me, please open the door. I waited, still no answer. "She must be scared   
  
out of her mind right now, every right to be." "Heather, please, it's me Kyle, let me in."   
  
Heather still didn't reply. "Please, Heather, just open the door." I know she must be too   
  
scared to speak; this won't go anywhere. I have to see if she's ok, I have to get in. I put   
  
my shoulder on the door and started to shove at it. The lock must have been weak, because it   
  
gave away quickly.   
  
The door swung open and hit the wall. There was no light at all in the room, save for some   
  
shining in the entrance, lighting up a small section of her room. It was enough for me to   
  
catch a glimpse of Heather. She was huddled against the wall, her knees brought up to her   
  
chest. She was peering at me from behind them; not a sound was heard from her. "God she   
  
looks terrible." I reached out my hand. "Heather…" Before I could finish she stood up and   
  
staggered towards me quickly.  
  
She then threw her arms around me, enough force to shove me back a little. She held her head   
  
over my shoulder. She wasn't crying, but she was holding on to me pretty hard. I could   
  
barely move myself from her grip. I held her close; she then loosened a little bit. She   
  
still hadn't said a word. I didn't like this silence, not at all. I let go, although she   
  
still was clung to me. I tried to step back, but she wouldn't loosen up, I couldn't believe   
  
the strength she had. I looked over at her; she had her cheek pressed against my shoulder   
  
now, looking into my eyes.   
  
"Don't leave." She said it with force, but quietly. "Kyle, don't leave me." I didn't know   
  
what to say, she sounded so scared. "Heather, I won't…" She kept repeating herself. "Don't   
  
leave me Kyle. Please, don't leave me." Tears were quietly falling from her eyes; her voice   
  
shuddered slightly. "Kyle, don't go, please." I wasn't even moving at all. She finally   
  
loosened up, so I calmly stepped back a little. "Heather, I won't leave you." I put my hands   
  
on her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes. "I won't leave you." She didn't change her   
  
expression at all. I slowly brought her close. Heather cried a little harder. I hated this;   
  
she was too scared from that damn panic she had. She took a break from crying and looked up   
  
at me. "Heather, I love you, I won't leave you, I promise."  
  
We both let go of each other. She still looked blank, no smile, nothing, an empty shell. I   
  
held her as we sat down on her bed; she had lied down across my lap. I felt nothing from   
  
her, she felt so cold and emotionless. The bed was small, so she had to huddle her legs   
  
together to have enough room. I looked across the room; there was a tall mirror on the wall.   
  
I could see us in it, Heather staring blankly ahead. Normally I would find this peaceful,   
  
but not under these circumstances. I looked down at Heather, and noticed my hands holding   
  
her. I slowly lifted them off her. "Don't touch her, you shouldn't be touching her, you'll   
  
only hurt her." I stared back at the mirror, looking at Heather's face. She remained   
  
unchanged. "Why did this happen? Why now, when things seem to be good? As soon as I tell her   
  
I love her, she goes crazy." It had to be my fault, Heather never, NEVER acted like that   
  
before.   
  
I can't believe I'm actually scared of myself, and that she let me in here. God, after what   
  
I did too, she actually let me come in here. I should be relieved, but of what? I have to   
  
deal with seeing her like this, and I hate it. Light managed to break into the room just   
  
then, but everything was still dark. I sighed and took a deep breath, looking at the window.   
  
Seeing that light should calm me, but it doesn't.   
  
Looking down, I noticed that Heather hadn't changed; she had kept her frozen gaze. I   
  
couldn't help but continue to look at the reflection in the mirror. I hated what I saw even   
  
more then in my room. Me, well I still looked the same as before, except I only saw my true   
  
self now, seeing the bloody rag and angry eyes. What I hated was that I didn't recognize   
  
Heather. She was empty, silent, destroyed. She's supposed to be cheerful, happy. I stroked   
  
her hair softly. "Jesus, what happened to her? No smile, no laugh, she's become nothing." I   
  
held my head with my left hand. "What should I do? She's not moving at all, should I say   
  
something? I can't stand seeing her like this."   
  
Heather rose slowly beside me, sitting next to me shoulder to shoulder. After a bit of   
  
silence, she turned towards me. I looked at her red eyes, seeing the trail lines of her   
  
dried tears. "Kyle…" She spoke weakly, barely a whisper. "I'm scared, I don't know what to   
  
do." I smiled back at her. "It's ok, I'm here, you don't have to be scared." Heather smiling   
  
back, that's what she would have usually done. She grabbed onto my shirt and cried. It   
  
happened so fast, her nails digging into my skin, her voice muffled by my shirt. Afterwards,   
  
my shirt was a wrinkled, wet mess of tears and mucus.   
  
She sat further away, holding her stomach as she leaned forward, eyes closed. I couldn't   
  
take looking at her like this; it was killing me. I stood up and walked to her window. I   
  
rested my head and arm on it, staring outside at the brightness. "What do I do, what do I   
  
do?" I closed my eyes as I put my forehead against my arm. "God, Heather, just be happy   
  
again, be the girl I love, please, stop this…please"  
  
I didn't ask for any of this. Today was supposed to be another normal day in our lives. None   
  
of this should be happening. Yeah, so we love each other, big deal, it was understood ever   
  
since we met each other. How am I supposed to deal with this! She's freaked out still, from   
  
something I don't know, and worst, she isn't scared of me.  
  
Didn't she see me scream? Didn't she see the rage in my eyes? I raised my head and looked   
  
outside. It was oddly very sunny; the room was lit up in a dim glow. I stepped to the side   
  
and leaned against the wall, arms across my chest. Heather was now sitting on the floor   
  
against the bed, her arms folded on her knees, resting her chin on her arms. She watched me   
  
as I walked over to her and sat down. I put my left arm around her. "You ok now?" She nodded   
  
her head and sniffed. I didn't believe her; I knew she was still scared. She leaned her head   
  
against the bed and closed her eyes. "Kyle, I…" She sniffed and looked over at me. "I don't   
  
know what happened." She shrugged her right shoulder. "I mean, the things I saw…" Heather   
  
paused, keeping her eyes at me. She lowered her head. "You wouldn't believe me." I shook my   
  
head. "Heather, I was there, I saw you, why wouldn't I believe you?" Heather looked at me   
  
confused. "No, No you weren't there." She looked up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. "I   
  
called out for you, you weren't there." Her voice became silent again, the fear back in her   
  
face. She held her forehand, eyes closed. "God…"   
  
I don't get what she meant by not seeing me. I was there, I saw her! It almost seems that   
  
logic has no meaning anymore. What I saw, what Heather did, this all makes no sense.   
  
Somehow, I need to accept this, and deal with things as they happen. I don't know why   
  
Heather flipped; yet I don't care really. I just want her to be ok, to see that smile on her   
  
face.   
  
Heather opened her eyes slowly and slid her hand down from her forehand. She still looked   
  
terrible. "Can anything I say make her better?" Seeing her like this, the answer was no. I   
  
had no idea what was going on, and I knew Heather felt the same. "I don't even know why I'm   
  
still here, I'm not helping things, and she'll cry no matter what I do." Heather brought her   
  
knees back to her chest, holding them tight with her arms. "I can't believe the shit I saw   
  
Kyle." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I can't believe it."  
  
"I don't know what to say, what to do, but I have to be here for her. It's probably the only   
  
thing I can do for her right now." She laid her head back against the bed, staring off   
  
above. I put my arm around her and held her, while the both of us remained in silence. 


	7. Understanding

Chapter Seven – Understanding

I shifted around, trying to get comfortable on the thin, carpet floor. Heather kept her silence still. She looked deep in thought, so I didn't want to disturb her. I stared off at the window; a tree branch was swaying around. _"I wish she would say something, I don't like this silence." _I paused for a moment, looking over at her. _"I hate this." _ I turned my attention back to the outside. It's amazing how much better it looks compared to here, where there is only silence and pain. I felt a light touch on my arm. Before I could turn around, Heather had wrapped her arms around me. I didn't turn around to face her; I just stared ahead at our shadow cast against the wall. I held her arms with mine, watching the shadow mimic us. "Heather, what did you see exactly?" She took a while to speak. "What I saw was…" She stopped, slowly loosening her grip. She stood up and sat on her bed. "It's too hard to explain." I stood up and sat beside her. She held her forehand, eyes closed, slowly shaking her head. "I just can't…" She opened her eyes and dropped her hand, looking over at me. "I wish I could, but I, what I saw…" She lowered her head. "It's impossible to put in words." I reached my hand out, but stopped and turned away from her. I leaned forward and closed my eyes. _"All I do is make her cry, or make her uncomfortable. I can't do anything to help her, God why am I still here!"_

I stood up and paced around the room, searching my mind for an answer. _"Why do I continue to stay here? I caused all this!" _I rested my head against the doorframe, rubbing against the wallpaper slowly. "Kyle." I lost thought and turned towards her. "Huh?" She rose up and walked halfway towards me. "Where are you going?" I stepped closer. "Nowhere, I just felt like walking around." She nodded her head slowly. "I, I think I can try and explain now." She kept her head low; she looked like she was still struggling to talk about it. I stood still, waiting for her to speak, but she kept silent. I walked over to her. She slowly rose her head, her eyes shiny. "I'm…I'm too scared Kyle…" She looked like she about to break down in tears. "I just can't…" I placed my hands lightly on her shoulders. "Heather, it's ok, you don't need to be scared, I'm here." She hugged me slowly. "I know; I'm sorry, I'll try and calm down." A couple seconds later, she let go, softly smiling. "Thanks." I smiled back at her.

Heather walked over to her dresser, rubbing her nails against the edges. I leaned against the wall. "I don't really remember falling asleep, all I remember is you calling out for me." She stopped rubbing her nails, her voice becoming slightly quieter. "So I opened my eyes, and what I saw…" I managed to catch her reflection in the dresser mirror. She was looking at me in the mirror; slowly the fear was flowing back into her eyes. "You going to be ok?" She nodded at me slowly. "Yeah, yeah I'll be fine." She took a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. I saw her sketchbook lying next to her feet. _"She could just draw it out for me? Talking about it isn't helping her. It'll be easier for her to draw what she saw."_ I grabbed the book. "Do you think you could draw it for me instead?" She nodded her head and sat down on her bed.

She's great at drawing, so I know this will be just as good, if not better then her describing it to me. She's always calm when she draws, so this shouldn't be too hard on her. I handed her a sharpened pencil as she flipped through countless pages to find a blank one. I caught quick glimpses of her work. A lot of them were of me, all very realistic. I could look at each picture and remember when she drew it. It was usually when mostly we were just bored. Heather's pencil flew across the page, quickly drawing all over, keeping her full attention on it. She seemed to be going in great detail; she flipped the page and drew more onto the next. She put the pencil down, and then reached for some color pencils. After some quick shading, she finished. "Here." She handed me the book. 

It was amazing, but how anyone, let alone Heather picture this, is impossible. The walls of her home were rusted, chain link fences against a wooden wall. The floor of was a big sheet of metal grating. The furniture was, well, the same. It just didn't look right. The table and chairs were stained with some kind of dirt and grime. There was no light at all; windows simply weren't there. 

I flipped to the next page. _"What the hell is this, this thing?" _It had two legs, two arms, it was built like a human, but everything else wasn't right. It had no face; instead it had huge tears, the skin flaps indicating where eyes and a nose once were, It's hair was thin and bleach white, hanging down to its shoulders. The hair in front came down to its "nose", covering most of it's scarred face. It looked like the thing had been submerged in water for years; its skin was pale gray and semi transparent. It had a wet, but shiny look to it. In most parts, the skin was also peeling, revealing lumpy masses of muscle. 

This picture made no sense at all. Is that what she was screaming about? I brought it closer to my eyes. Heather had stood up and was now pacing around the room, waiting for my reaction. _"Something about this, it almost looks familiar?" _The hair, it's skin, something about it just clicked in my head. _"The way it's hair drops down onto it's face, kind of looks like…" _I held my head. "No, no this can't?" I felt sick all of a sudden. 

This thing, this is what she saw me as. I don't want to believe it, but all the signs are there. The height, build, hair, it all looks like me. _"This is why she was freaking out so much, She saw me as this, she thought I wasn't there." _

I put the book down and looked over at her, she was standing by the window. _"So, when I, hurt her, she saw the monster doing it instead?"_ I shook my head. She doesn't know about what I did to her, she only saw the monster doing it instead. This disgusted me; she has no idea about what I did, no idea at all. No wonder she isn't afraid of me, "I" didn't hurt her. I walked into her cramped bathroom and splashed my face with cold water, wiping my eyes. I shook my face, feeling my wet hair hit my face. I sighed and looked at the mirror. After all that's happened, from what she saw, to what I did, that drawing's really starting to make sense now. I could almost see my anger now in the mirror, even though I'm calm right now. I unwrapped my hand and checked it. The blood had dried, but it still hurt badly. _"I can't believe she hasn't noticed it yet." _I threw the rag into the trash and checked her medicine cabinet for anything that might help. I washed my hand and spread some disinfectant cream on it. I didn't find any bandage to wrap it up, but I didn't care, that was the last thing on my mind.

__

I walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She didn't turn towards me. "What do you think?" I leaned against the wall beside her. "Well, to put it simply…" She turned towards me. I shook my head. "It's fucked up, all of it." She laughed slightly. "Yeah, yeah it is." I rocked back and forth. She leaned against the wall beside me. "Where did you go anyway Kyle?" I thought to myself, should I tell her? _"No, I can't, not now at least. She can't know about what I did." _"I was right there, watching you the whole time." Heather looked closely at me. "Oh, ok." She looked away and lowered her head. "It's just that, I felt that you were there, nearby. I kept screaming for you, but I had no idea where you were." She walked towards her bed and sat down, picking up the book. I sat down beside her. She was looking at the monster. "It felt so much like a dream, but dreams don't hurt you." I leaned in closer. "What do you mean?" She looked down at the picture. "This thing, it attacked me…" Her voice became shaky again. "It, threw me against the door, held my mouth shut." She stood up suddenly and walked towards her dresser. She held her forehead. "This is crazy, how did this happen? This doesn't make any sense at all!" She pounded the dresser. "God damn it, WHY! What's wrong with me!"

I've never seen Heather act like this before, she doesn't get angry often. It scared me, seeing her change like this. I walked towards her slowly. She wasn't crying or anything, that surprised me. She looked angry, frustrated. "Heather." She looked over at me. "Yeah?" "We should probably clean up the mess in the living room, then we can try and think this over, ok?" She let out a deep breath. "Yeah, fine." I kept my distance from her as we walked to the living room.


	8. Cleaning Up

Chapter Eight – Cleaning up 

I tossed the bag into the garbage can outside, it banged loudly, and I could hear the vase pieces shatter. _"That should be about it." _ I checked my watch; it was twelve forty five, just in time since Mr. Morris should be home any minute now. I headed back for Heather's apartment. She was sitting at the table, holding her head. I sat down across from her. "Dad should be home any minute now." I leaned forward. "You going to tell him about this?" She quickly looked up at me. "Definitely not, it'd just worry him." I stood out of my chair. I needed to head home, to think all this over, plus I was getting sick of seeing Heather so bent out of shape, and maybe she just needs some time alone right now. "I'm going to go ahead and head home, you sure you're going to be ok?" She nodded her head slowly. I smiled and walked towards the front door. As I reached for the knob, I took one last look at her. She said she was ok, but she still looked like shit. I walked back and crouched beside her. "It'll be ok, everything will work out." She turned towards me. "That's easy for you to say! You didn't see the things I saw, feel what I felt!" I stood up and stepped back a little. _"What the hell? I'm trying to help, and she just shoves me away?" _She shook her head. "Just leave already, I'm fine, ok!" I walked back to the doorway, but I didn't leave. Heather was not ok; I couldn't leave her like this. She kept glancing at me. I sighed. _"I don't like this, but if she wants me leave, I will." _"Bye Heather." I shut the door behind me and started back to my house. As I climbed the stairs, I heard a noise and stopped. "Kyle, Kyle wait!" I turned around to see Heather running towards me. She climbed up the stairs and met me halfway. "Kyle, I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said." I shook my head. "Heather, it's ok, I know you didn't." She leaned against the wall. "I'm just so pissed at this, everything going on. Nothing makes any sense." I sat down on the stairs. She looked at me. "The weird thing is, I almost feel like this is familiar."

"What, have you had dreams like it or something?" She sat down beside me. "No, well, it's just, it looked like something I've seen before, that's all." _"How could it be familiar, I doubt she's seen any horror movie like it." _I took my cigarettes out; Heather snatched one without thinking. "I don't get what you're saying, since…" I paused to light my cigarette and hers. "Since I don't think you've ever seen any movie like that." She blew out a stream of smoke. "Yeah, I've never SEEN anything like it, but there's just something about it." I took a puff. "Like déjà vu?" She nodded her head. I stood up and started again for my apartment, Heather following beside me.

I searched my pocket for my keys while she snuffed the cigarettes out on the floor. After unlocking the door; she followed me in. We both stood in the doorway, not knowing what to say. _"She still looks scared, but I know she'll be fine, she's strong." _"If you need anything, come by, ok?" "I'll be fine, it's ok…" I reached for the doorknob. "You sure?" She nodded her head slowly. _"Shit, I know I shouldn't leave her like this…" _"It'll be fine, we'll get through this…" She shook her head. "I can't Kyle, I can't…" She leaned against the doorway and held her head. "I'm not, scared of what I saw. It's…" She wiped her eyes. "How could a dream hurt me, how?" 

__

"What can I tell her now? I have to tell her it wasn't some monster, that it was all me. I can't explain what she saw, but she can't be afraid, she needs to know." If only I had the nerve to tell her, but I can't, it'd make things worse. It'd kill her; she would breakdown, knowing I hurt her. I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe you just hit your head?" She scoffed. "I didn't just hit my head! I saw that thing attacking me! I'm not making this shit up!" She grabbed my hand tightly. "Go ahead, feel my head, feel it!" 

I felt my hand trembling. _"What the hell is she doing?" _She put my hand on the back of her head with an angry look in her eyes. I felt something warm and wet, a gash maybe. My fingers grazed it; she winced with tears in her eyes. "You see Kyle? I didn't just hit my head, ok!" She threw my hand back, a faint amount of blood where I felt her wound. 

__

"I did that to her? I thought it was only a bump or something? God, what the fuck did I do to her!" She breathed quickly, staring at me. "You believe me now?!" I merely shook my head. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, ready to cry. "I'm, sorry, I just…" She hugged me. "I'm so fucking scared Kyle, I just want to go to sleep, but I can't even do that."

I kissed her forehead lightly, rubbing the back of her head. "Do you need me to stay up with you or something?" She shook her head and sniffed. "No, I'm just exaggerating, I'll be alright." I walked her back to the stairs. "Take it easy, ok? If you need anything, call me." I hugged her one last time, afraid to let go. "I love you Heather." She looked deep into my eyes and spoke softly. "I love you Kyle." I finally saw those peaceful, beautiful eyes that I love, and that was all the proof I needed that she was ok

I had it all planned out. The next day, we'd watch a movie at my house, and hang out at the mall, just like we've been doing for all these years. Hopefully we would forget what happened today and have a good time. 


	9. Losing Reality

Chapter Nine – Losing Reality

"Morning always comes, it's corny, but it's true. But when your eyes are closed, it always feels like night." The screen faded away and the credits began to roll. We just finished watching our favorite movie; Heather had fallen asleep halfway in, slumped against my shoulder. I didn't bother waking her up; she was already tired when I came earlier. I turned off the TV and enjoyed the silence. Yesterday was still fresh in my mind, and I assumed she felt the same; we haven't spoken to each other. I felt her shift around some, and then she looked at me. "Was I asleep long?" I laughed softly. "Only for about an hour." Heather stood up and wiped her face. "I take it you didn't get much sleep?" She shook her head. I wanted to leave it at that, and especially leave everything yesterday in the past, but she still looked like she was in pain. "You feeling any better?" She smiled slightly. "Yeah, I didn't have another dream or anything." She shrugged her shoulders. Her voice was quiet like before, but she didn't seem to be afraid. "I still feel a little scared, but I'm not about to worry about that."

__

Good, she's ok, and I know she isn't lying, I can just tell. She quickly changed the subject and stood up. "I'm going to go change, I got something from my dad yesterday, I'll show it to you." She headed for her room. I was kind of curious as to what this was. "What is it?" She smiled. "You'll see."_ Fair enough._

While she was busy changing, Mr. Mason walked in from his bedroom, dressed for work. I always hate having to talk to him, I can never think of what to say, having to force small talk. It doesn't make any sense, I've known him for all these years, I hang out with his daughter, and still I've never anything to say, no wonder he's never liked me. "Going to the mall today, Kyle?" He spoke as he tugged at his tie. I already felt uncomfortable. "Yes sir, what time do you want her home?" He answered after an awkward silence, like he didn't hear me. "That doesn't really matter." Something about what he just said creeped me out. It's always five or six on the dot, no more. I figured he must not have understood me. "Sir?" I turned to face him. He put a blue jacket on over his formal looking shirt, and then turned around to face me, a dead serious look.

"Kyle, you care about Heather, right?" _What is he accusing me of now? God, he'll never trust me. _I immediately became defensive. "Mr. Morris, I haven't done anything to her, I swear…" He smiled softly. "You do care about her, right?" "Yes, of course I do, but I haven't…" He walked closer to me. "Kyle, I'm not accusing you of anything, it's just…" He grew quiet; for once he was the one that was at a loss for words. "Just, keep her safe, protect her, you understand?" He spoke calmly; I felt no anger in his tone. "Yes sir, I understand." I didn't like this conversation; it just didn't feel right, suddenly now he fears for her safety like this? He does make her carry that knife around, but I could see any dad doing that. He's telling me to protect her, as if something bad will happen. I wanted to tell him I love her, no harm will ever come to her, but he just has to rely on my perfect record of keeping her out of trouble around me. Yes, I care about her obviously, she's my friend, but telling him I love her…I can't do that.

Heather walked over to us. She was wearing the purple tank top I bought her, and some simple blue jeans and sneakers. I also noticed a round pendant around her neck, which must have been what she was talking about. Harry walked towards her and held the pendent in his hand. "Do you like it?" She smiled and hugged him. "It's perfect, the right size." Mr. Morris nodded and turned towards me. "What do you think Kyle?" I took a closer look at it, something was inside it, a picture maybe._ Could their be a picture of Heather's mom in it? _I don't mention her around Heather; it makes her upset, since her mom died when Heather was four. I guess that's why Mr. Morris is so protective; she's a living reminder of his wife. "What's in it?" She took it off and opened it, inside was a small sliver of red stone. "It's a good luck charm, just in case…" It sounded like he wasn't explaining it completely. _Good luck charm? What, In case of a vampire bite? _Heather closed the pendant as we headed for the front door. "Well, I'll see you later dad. I'll call you before I come home, ok?" He hugged Heather and kissed her. "You kids have fun, just be careful!" 

__

C'mon, c'mon, yes! My eyes were glued to the glowing screen, Heather stood beside me bored as hell. "Ha, yes!" I threw my hands down and caught my breath. She rolled her eyes and mocked me. "Yeah, I did it, yeah!" I shook my head. "Funny, ha ha." She sighed and leaned against the cabinet. "How much longer Kyle?" I held up my hand, eyeing the screen. "You know, till I run out of lives." Just then I felt something tug at my jeans. I ignored it as much as I could, but I gave it up and glanced down. Some kid was staring at me. I kept playing, not looking at him. "What?" He didn't reply, he stared at me still. _What the hell does he want? _I lost my patience and looked at him. "What kid, what the hell do you want!" He just stared blankly. I heard an explosion, to my horror I had lost my last life. I threw my hands up. "Great, just great!" Heather breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed me by the arm. "Good, let's go!" As she hauled me away, I saw the kid smile at me and take my place, his pockets bursting with quarters. "Lousy little shit!" Heather laughed. "He's just a kid, it's not that big a deal!" I shook my head. _Yeah it is._

Heather picked up the receiver and called her dad. A warm feeling of déjà vu hit me then as I leaned against the wall. She smiled at the sound of his voice. "Dad, it's me, yeah, I'm having a good time." I glanced around at the crowd; an older looking guy in a coat and hat was walking towards the phones, he had a beard starting to grow. "Yeah, I'll be home soon, I love you too dad, bye!" She hung up the phone. The man stopped beside us and stared at Heather. She glanced at him for a bit, and shrugged her shoulders. He shook his head disapprovingly. Something about this guy looked familiar. 

As we walked, I kept hearing his footsteps behind us. "Heather Morris?" She stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned around uneasily. "How, do you know my name?" "I'm a detective, my name is Douglas Cartland." It suddenly hit me. This was that same man on the subway who spied on us. What does he want of us, of Heather? "A detective, really?" She turned away and started to walk quicker. "Well, nice talking to you." I whispered to her. "What's going on?" She kept on, not looking at me. "Just keep walking, we need to lose him." Douglas continued to trail us. "Please, this is very important, it's about your birth." She froze, darting her eyes around. She shook her head and spoke angrily, continuing to walk. "I'm not interested." He stopped and let us walk on. "It won't take more then thirty minutes, that's all I ask." We kept on, Heather had remained silent to me this whole time, and I felt like she was hiding some huge secret from me. I whispered to her. "Heather, what's he talking about?" She looked at me sternly and whispered. "It's nothing, ok?" _Bullshit, I know she's lying. She's scared that this guy knows something. What is this about her birth, is she adopted or something? Hardly a reason for him to stalk us. _Regardless of what this guy knows, he's scaring her, stalking us, I won't let him near her. 

We hit a dead end, the bathrooms, Douglas still behind us. _That's it, I've had it… _I spun around and stepped towards him. "Are you a fucking idiot? She's not interested, so back the fuck off already, and leave her alone!" I felt ready to pounce on him, anything to make him leave. He smiled softly and held his hands up. "Sorry, I'll wait right here then." He had us trapped, right where he wanted us. Heather brushed beside me, whispering quickly into my ear. "Meet me outside." She walked into the women's restroom; I followed into the men's restroom. _What does she mean meet me outside? _I heard a tapping noise coming from the small window near the sink. Heather had crawled through hers to get out. I opened the window and emerged outside. We were at the side of the mall, a narrow alley with a tall brick wall closing us in. 

The sky was dim orange, and for some reason it was silent outside. At this hour, I should be able to hear the noise of traffic from all sides. Heather rushed over to me. "Ok, let's go, cmon!" She took my hand and ran, pulling me along. _What the hell, why is she in such a panic?_ "Heather, hold on." She kept running, keeping her focus on ahead. I pulled away, she spun around and looked at me surprised, scared. "Kyle what are you doing! Let's go!" I shook my head. "What's this guy talking about? Why are you so sacred, it could be something important!" She sighed and shook her head. "I can't explain right now, we need to get out of here, now!" She was breathing quickly, I could see she was almost about to cry. _God, this is really serious, I can't ask her about this, and whatever it is can wait. _I grabbed her hand and hurried along the alley, her grip tightening, taking short breaths. We came to a stop; a white van was parked in the alley, its rear was blocking the alley. _What the? What is, what's a van doing here? This isn't right…_

Orange sky, absolute quietness, this makes no fucking sense? Everything feels wrong… "Kyle!" Her voice startled me. She opened a door that led to the back halls of the mall. "This way!" I followed her in. I went through my mind, charting which doors would go where. We hurried towards a door at the end of a hall. "Heather, this one!" It led to the emergency stairs. As we climbed the stairs, Heather got ahead of me and went through the second floor door. I stopped to catch my breath. _"Why is she so panicky? Something's going on, something she hasn't told me." _I ran to the second floor and pushed the door open.

Every store was closed; and security shutters were down at opposite sides of the hall, leaving us stranded at his section. It was almost pitch black, except for a light flickering from a store. The store's shutter was jammed, leaving enough space to crawl underneath to get in. Heather was standing nearby, looking at the store. 

"Something's not right…" She turned her head towards me slowly. "What the hell's going on?" She held her head and started to back away slowly, looking around. "This, this feels like my dream, but it can't come true, it can't!" _No fucking way, this is her dream? This can't be happening._ She looked towards the one open store in front of us. "I, I feel like we need to go this way…" 

Before I could speak, Heather was crouched down, checking the jammed shutter. "I think I can get in." She lay down on her back and slowly began to slide in. Before she got too far, I grabbed her shoulder. "Heather wait!" She looked up at me. "What, what's wrong?" I shook my head. "This isn't right, all of this!" She looked so calm, and it was pissing me off. How the hell could she be so calm at a time like this! Damn, it's like she's used to this environment like she said? "Kyle, we need to find a way out, and this feels like the way, I just know it." _No, no it's not! Why can't she stop this and crawl out of there!_ I really didn't like this, but maybe she's right, and I'm too big to fit. I sighed and nodded my head slowly. "Just, please be careful in there, ok?" I took my lighter out of my pocket and handed it to her. She smiled a little. "Don't worry, I'll be back." I stood up and stepped back some. She faded into the darkness.

I took a deep breath and tried to look into the windows. I couldn't make out anything, just blackness. _Please Heather, just be in and out. I don't like this. _I don't get it, everything is so dark, dirty, a living nightmare. I feel like I'll wake up anytime now, and we'll be ok. "Get the hell away from me!" My heart jolted as I heard Heather scream from inside. I slammed my hands on the shutter. "Heather! Heather are you ok! I pounded on the shutter. "Heather! Answer me!" I felt a bead of sweat slip off my nose. I heard gunfire erupt from inside. "HEATHER! FUCK! HEATHER!" I felt dizzy and shaky. She yelled from within. "Kyle! Help me!" I then heard a soft hissing noise. I crouched down and strained to lift the shutter up. My arms began to burn as I slowly inched the shutter up slowly, my face growing red. "Erg! C'mon, C'mon!" It suddenly unlocked and shot upwards and wrapped up, clanking loudly and echoing throughout the hall. Light from the store flooded the area, blinding me. 

Heather was against the wall, a pistol held tightly in her hands, which were trembling. A tall thing with thick, baggy arms was walking towards her. Its legs were thin and long, like stilts, and its head was a tiny sphere mound of flesh, with a mouth in the center. It had a very skinny, thin body. It stopped walking and slowly turned towards me. It then held it's huge right arm up and pointed at me. "Stay away from him!" Heather shot at the thing's head. It turned around towards her and began to advance even quicker. Without thinking, I pulled my pocketknife out and leaped onto it's narrow back. I began to stab it in its face and neck multiple times. It moaned deeply and staggered around like a wounded animal. I then jumped off as it stumbled near the front window. I ran and smashed into it with my shoulder. It broke through the window with a loud crash and slammed into the floor hard. It gave one last moan and it's body fell limp, a pool of blood collecting from its wounds. 


End file.
